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AN ESSAY 



ON 



THE PLAY OF THE TEMPEST, 



REMARKS ON THE SUPERSTITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES 
SOME ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER OF 
CALIBAN ; WITH VARIOUS REFLECTIONS ON THE 
WRITINGS AND GENIUS OF SHAKSPERE. 



READ BEFORE THE SHAKSPERE CLUB, 



6th September, 1839. 

By P. MACDONNELL, 



{Formerly President of the Royal Physical Society of Edinburgh) 




JOHN FELLOWES, 36, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD. 
MDCCCXL. 



fir*, sa 

•Ma 



The Play of THE TEMPEST, as it was last performed 3d June, 
1839, at the Theatre Royal Covent Garden, under the manage- 
ment of 

W. C. MACREADY, ESQ. 

Alonzo King of Naples Mr. Ward. 

Sebastian (his brother) Mr. Diddear. 

Prospero (the rightful Duke of Milan) . .Mr. Macready. 

Antonio (his brother) Mr. Phelps. 

Ferdinand (son to the King of Naples) . . . Mr. Anderson. 

Gonzalo . . . Mr. VValdron. 

Adrien • Mr. Bender. 

Francisco Mr. C. J. Smith. 

Caliban (a deformed slave) Mr. G. Bennett. 

Trinculo (a jester) Mr. Harley. 

Stephano (a drunken butler) Mr. Bartley. 

Miranda (daughter to Prospero) Miss. H. Faucit. 

Ariel (an airy spirit) Miss. P. Horton. 

Spirits in the Vision. 

Iris. — Mrs. Serle. Ceres— Miss. P. Horton. 

Juno — Miss. Rainsforth. 

The Music selected from the works of Purcell, Linley, and Dr. 
Arne, and arranged by Mr. T. Cooke. 



ON THE TEMPEST 



THE POET'S EYE, IN A FINE FRENZY ROLLING, 

DOTH GLANCE FROM HEAVEN TO EARTH, FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN, 

AND AS IMAGINATION BODIES FORTH 

THE FORM OF THINGS UNKNOWN, THE POEt's PEN 

TURNS THEM TO SHAPE, AND GIVES TO AIRY NOTHING 

A LOCAL HABITATION, AND A NAME. 

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. 



It has been well observed, that the play of the 
Tempest, carries us beyond the limits of nature, 
without forsaking sense; — its enchantment no 
doubt has given to fiction all the appearance of 
reality; but the genius of poetry having now in 
modern times, left the abodes of supernatural 
beings, the poet revels no more, in those un- 
controlled and boundless dominions of fancy. 
Shakspere, however, wrote congenial to the period 
in which he lived ; the lofty powers of his imagi- 
nation knew no bounds, and in soaring far beyond 
the regions of terrestrial existence, to please the 
taste, and suit the prejudices of his day, he has 
given to the world, a magnificent proof, of the 



ON THE TEMPEST, 



extent of his genius, and has left behind him, a 
source of intellectual enjoyment, that will ever 
influence the heart of man, with the sweetest and 
tenderest emotions. The mental vigor displayed 
in the Tempest, furnishes a beautiful illustration of 
the powers of the human brain, and in a moral and 
poetical point of view, presents to us, scenes and 
events truly pleasing and instructive ; but amidst 
all this grandeur and beauty, the calm spirit of 
philosophy, will ever have something to deplore, 
connected as it is, with a subject, which in its effects, 
has tended in former days, to promote great evil. 
Every age and country have had their superstitions, 
and though the belief in the existence of preter- 
natural beings, has given birth to those inventions, 
from which poetry derives its highest distinctions, 
and created a sublimity of thought, and a nobleness 
of enthusiasm, that almost sanctifies the dreams of 
fiction,— yet the origin of those supernatural fancies, 
it must be admitted, can be traced to no other 
source than the extreme ignorance of the human 
mind. Mankind, in former ages, were entirely 
excluded from a knowledge of the operations of 
nature;— totally unacquainted with those principles 
of science, which distinguish the philosophy of the 
present day, they became the slaves of their own 
fears, and under the gloomy sway of that gothic 
darkness, which for centuries prevailed in Europe, 
every element was imagined the residence of a 
demon ;— ghosts, goblins, and witches, were the 
terror of the world, the belief of which, entailed 
not only calamity and misery upon individuals, 



m THE TEMPEST. 3 

but operated materially against the destiny of 
nations : the unhappy fate of the brave but unfor- 
tunate Maid of Orleans, one instance amongst 
many that could be recorded, while it awakens our 
sympathy, will ever remain an indelible stain upon 
the page of history. Even in the plenitude of 
ancient Rome, the influence of such belief guided 
the destinies of that great empire, as Plutarch tells 
us, that the energies of Marcus Brutus were greatly 
destroyed, by his having seen in his camp the 
ghost of Julius Caesar, the night previous to the 
battle of Phillippi. 

It would, however, be foreign to my purpose, to 
enter minutely into the history of the human mind, 
connected with superstition, the detail of which, 
will always present a durable monument of human 
folly ;— science has done much, in our day, to give 
to the aspect of human affairs, a very different 
character ; but, melancholy as it is to contemplate, 
the vestiges of ignorance and barbarism still sur- 
round us ;— there are men in these later times, 
who, endowed with much talent, have allowed 
their minds to be shackled with all the trammels 
of prejudice, and have indicated in their writings, 
a great reluctance to throw off the superstition of 
former ages : — Dr. Samuel Johnson and Sir Walter 
Scott are a lamentable proof of this, the latter im- 
plying, in his work on Demonology, that while a 
belief exists in the immortality of the soul, there 
will always be a prevalence of those opinions. 
Scott, however, never wrote as a philosopher ; his 



4 ©^ THE TEHretTo 

ideas upon this subject are not to be relied on, 
having neither the impression of candour, nor the 
semblance of honesty ; his works certainly display 
great talent, combined with deep research ; but, 
throughout the vast range of his extensive produc- 
tions, there is scarcely one sentiment to be found, 
which will secure to him, the praise of posterity, 
or show that his mind was ever imbued with that 
elevation of thought, to serve and promote the true 
interests of mankind. The strong love of life 
which is interwoven with the feelings of man, has 
made him look forward to an existence beyond the 
grave, and in approaching 

That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne 
No traveller returns ; 

his mind, amidst the storms which on his wayward 
and troubled journey often assail him, is solaced 
by enjoying the prospect, of those scenes of future 
bliss, which he trusts, are awaiting him ;— the most 
virtuous of men, have in all past times, maintained 
the soul's immortality, and those of the present 
day, would, in all probability, feel themselves de- 
graded, were we to impute to them, the belief of 
ghosts, and such other phantasies ; — the reasoning 
of Scott, is therefore untenable, as it is consola- 
tory to know, that the progress of science and 
philosophy, is doing every thing to banish from the 
world such absurdities, those fancies of the mind 
being now, happily, confined only to that very 
illiterate portion of mankind, whose fate is so 
pathetically alluded to by the immortal Gray— 



QM THE .TElMKPESTa 5 

But knowledge to their eyes, her ample page, 
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; 
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, 
And froze the genial current of the soul. 

Many of the principles of natural philosophy, 
were well known to the ancients, but the 
darkness and barbarism, which prevailed over 
Europe during the middle ages, threw the know- 
ledge of those principles into obscurity, till the 
revival of learning again developed them. The 
elements of science in modern times, are, there- 
fore, now so well understood, that to every well 
informed mind, those supernatural powers,^) in 
the credence of which the energies of man for ages 
were paralyzed, have entirely vanished, and are 
looked upon in no other light, than the mere crea- 
tion, of disordered imaginations. Our immortal 
poet, though he has in the Tempest, and other 
plays, brought forward those agencies, to give 
effect to the scenes which he drew, well knew 
that they did not exist in nature ;— his great and 
comprehensive mind, extended far beyond the pre- 
judices of his time, for, when alluding to the Ghost 
of Hamlet, he very beautifully says— it was seen 
" in the mind's eye," an observation closely cor- 
responding with the philosophy of the present day. 

Dr. Hibbert, in a work of great merit, entitled 
" A Theory of Apparitions," has satisfactorily illus- 
trated, that many of those appearances, are often to 
be referred to disease ; the morbid feelings of the 
brain, creating under particular circumstances, 



6 ©3^ THE TEMPEST - 

those phenomena, which have frequently led men, 
of otherwise shrewd, and accurate intelligence, to 
offer what they have considered, the most un- 
doubted testimony, in behalf of supernatural ex- 
istencies. 

The age in which Shakspere lived, though it 
can boast of a Bacon as a philosopher, and a 
Spenser as a poet, was overwhelmed with the 
darkest ignorance ; indeed, we may form some 
idea, of the state of knowledge, among the people 
in general, when we know that James the First,( 2 ) 
as an author, advocated the belief of witchcraft; a 
circumstance, which perhaps, tended in some 
degree, to give to the superstitions of this country, 
that peculiar character, which, during the whole 
of the seventeenth century, unhappily disgraced its 
annals. Even the judges of the land, among 
whom was the celebrated Sir Matthew Hale, at 
that period condemned people to be burned alive, 
for what was denominated the crime of sorcery : 
among the thousands who suffered for these alleged 
crimes, we find it recorded in the criminal trials 
for Scotland, ( 3 ) that one Margaret Laing, was burnt 
for being a witch, and having carnal knowledge 
with the devil ! an accusation, corresponding with 
the same kind of superstition, which gave to 
Shakspere the idea, jthat Sycorax, the mother of 
Caliban, had been guilty of the same crime; 
for Prospero observes, when accosting Caliban- 
Come forth, thou poisonous slave, 
Got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam ! 



ON TOE TEMPEST. 7 

Witchcraft and sorcery can be traced to very 
remote periods, as many of the superstitions of the 
middle ages, had their origin in the mythology of 
the ancients; the character of them, undergoing 
in different countries, great changes. Tacitus 
informs us, that among the German tribes, sorcery 
held such a sway over this barbarous people, that 
the supposed possessors of it, rose to the highest 
rank in their councils, and even obtained a share 
in the direction of their armies : in latter times 
it lost that influence, and while it formed a source 
of romance, and fiction to the poet, it unfortu- 
nately gave birth to laws, which, originating out 
of ignorance, and cruelty, produced among man- 
kind, the most direful consequences. 

To pursue this theme further, would only create 
to the reflecting mind, sensations of no satisfac- 
tory nature ; for, whether we direct our attention, 
in these rude ages, to the general events of life, 
or to the records of legislation, connected with the 
history of kings, and courts, we find mankind sunk, 
and degraded, by the withering powers of supersti- 
tion. The dawn of science, and literature, how- 
ever, appeared amidst (what has been termed) 
" the glories of the maiden reign," and emanations 
of great brilliancy, about this period, began to 
dispel those mists, which had so long enveloped in 
darkness the human mind. Men prompted to 
intellectual exertion, by the revival of letters, and 
agitated by the religious revolutions of the times— 
the splendour of the poet, with the deep thought 



8 ©^ THE TE01PEST, 

of the philosopher, were excited into action, whilst 
the drama, awakening from its slumbers, pos- 
sessed, in no small degree, in giving to the strug- 
gle, between ignorance and knowledge, that cha- 
racter, which led Dr. Johnson, justly to say — 

When learning's triumph, o'er her barb'rous foes, 
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspere rose ! 

Our illustrious bard, therefore, under circum- 
stances quite uncongenial to the more advanced 
periods of literature, wrote for a people, emerging 
from the barbarism of former ages, and adapting 
his dramas to the spirit of the times, the efforts of 
his sublime and noble genius, gave to the world, 
the splendid, romantic, and beautiful play of the 
Tempest. 

It is admitted by all commentators upon the 
writings of Shakspere, that this drama, was among 
the last of our author's productions, though no 
one, has been able positively, to discover, the 
romance upon which it is founded. ( 4 ) In the com- 
position of the Tempest, Shakspere seems to have 
been well aware, of the advantages, which the 
ancient poets, derived from popular superstition, 
and in the exertions of his poetic genius, he has 
boldly called forth the magic spells, of that super- 
natural power, so peculiar to the credulity of the 
age, in which he lived;— amidst the most exquisite 
beauties of classic literature, he leads us into all 
the romance of poetic fable, and manages his 
scenery with such skill and judgment, as to give 
to fictitious existence, the air and appearance of 



©^ TOE TEWEST, 9 

reality : it is in the perusal of this remarkable 
production, that we for a time, forget the influence 
of reason and philosophy, and willingly give our- 
selves up, to all the pleasures of the sweetest 
delusion. 

Prospero, the leading character of the play, is 
endowed with the power of a magician, and in the 
possession of a mind, enriched by wisdom and 
great learning, he is enabled to accomplish those 
virtuous ends, which his exalted and generous 
views so nobly contemplated. The incidents are 
interwoven with the powers of enchantment ; but 
the development of the plot, displays one of the 
most impressive, and affecting lessons of moral 
feeling, that is to be found, in the whole range of 
dramatic poetry. 

The story of this drama, is founded upon certain 
circumstances, connected with the life of Prospero, 
Duke of Milan ; Anthonio his brother, usurping 
the dukedom, by the instigation of Alonzo, king 
of Naples, Prospero, with his daughter Miranda, 
are compelled to seek refuge in an uninhabited 
island. After a residence there of twelve years, 
Prospero, by the powers of his magic, raises a 
storm, whereby Anthonio, the usurper, with Alonzo, 
Ferdinand his son, and Sebastian his brother, 
with other attendants, are shipwrecked upon the 
island during the tempest. By a concatenation of 
strange and interesting events, Prospero is enabled 
to bring within his reach Anthonio, and the rest 



10 ©M TUE TMiFEST, 

of the conspirators; with great magnanimity of 
mind, Prospero disdains to seek revenge for the 
injuries he had suffered; the generosity of his 
character forgives them ; he betroths his daughter 
Miranda to Ferdinand, and ultimately resolves, to 
leave the Enchanted Isle, to solemnize the nuptials 
of Ferdinand and Miranda at Naples ; while, dur- 
ing his remaining days, he is to enjoy the Dukedom 
of Milan. Though the source from which Shak- 
spere has taken the incidents, upon which he has 
built the structure of the " Tempest" is still a 
matter of conjecture, Italy however, is the spot, 
which has given birth, to the personages with 
whom we meet in its story ; that beautiful coun- 
try, once fertile with the stores of science and 
literature, the remembrance of which, amidst the 
desolation that now exists, only awakens in our 
minds, the most mournful recollections; —this land 
of literature and science, has, therefore, given to 
Shakspere, the opportunity of endowing Prospero, 
with all those qualities of learning, which encircle 
his character; and, hence, we find, in the deep 
solitude, that surrounded him in the Enchanted 
Isle, he, unlike the moralizing Jacques, in " As 
you like it," while in banishment in the Forest of 
Arden, did not, 

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ; 
nor sought, 

To find sermons in stones, 
nor, 

Books in the running brooks ; 



QM THE tempest. 11 

but, with a mind, cultivated by all the liberal arts, 
and in the possession of a library, that he tells us, 
his good friend Gonzalo had furnished him, and 
which he prized above his dukedom, he was ena- 
bled, by the power of his enchantment, to carry 
out effectually his bold and generous designs. 

The Play opens with a ship at sea, exposed to 
all the horrors of a tempest ; thunder and light- 
ning prevail, and ultimately the vessel is dashed 
upon the shore of the Enchanted Island. We 
have in this scene, every thing which can convey 
to us, the dreadful calamities of a shipwreck : the 
boatswain and master, like brave sailors, exhibiting 
all those characteristics of cool and undaunted 
courage, amidst the dangers that surround them; 
whilst the conduct of the passengers, viz. Alonzo, 
Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, and others, the 
good Gonzalo excepted, display that fear and 
dread, which a storm at sea, seldom fails to create, 
among those, not accustomed to the rage and fury 
of this element. The poet has drawn the scene 
with his wonted power, and it has been remarked, 
that in the naval dialogue of the mariners, it is the 
first example of sailors' language, being exhibited 
on the stage. 

The subsequent events of the play, are laid in 
the Enchanted Island, and the scene which opens 
to our view, after the shipwreck, is pregnant with 
deep interest. It is before the cell of Prospero, 
where first we meet with him and his daughter 



12 On TUE TE1M[PEST 

Miranda; — influenced by all those high and tender 
emotions, which render Miranda a gem of purity 
and excellence, we behold her, imploring her father 
to allay the roar of the wild waters, under the 
belief, that he, by his art, had raised the storm, 
and that all on board had perished; and in a 
strain of great beauty, and tenderness, she ex- 
claims — 

O ! I have suffer'd, 

With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel, 
Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her, 
Dash'd all to pieces : O, the cry did knock 
Against my very heart ! Poor souls ! they perished. 
Had I been any god of power, I would 
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or 'ere 
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and 
The freighting souls within her. 

These are the sentiments of a noble mind, in- 
spired by every feeling of compassion and hu- 
manity, and impress us, with a high idea, how 
beautifully, Shakspere could pourtray the passions 
of the human heart ; lovely and gentle in her 
nature, Miranda is one of those beings of woman- 
kind, that the graphic powers of Shakspere, have 
been so successful in delineating ; he has through- 
out the play, drawn the daughter of Prospero, in 
the possession of all those qualities, mingled with 
sweet affection, which give to her sex, that benign 
and potent influence, of subduing and controlling 
the heart of man, amidst the ruder feelings of his 
character ; for, like other great poets, our im- 
mortal bard has shown, that woman, lovely wo- 



©^ THE TEMUPESTc 13 

man, was made to harmonize our souls ; to render 
the rugged path of existence more easy, and 
create to domestic happiness, those scenes, which 
tend, 



to animate the bliss, 

And sweeten all the toils of human life. 

Prospero, moved, in no ordinary degree, by the 
virtue of Miranda, tells her to be of good comfort, 

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd 

The very virtue of compassion in thee ; 

I have, with such provision in mine art, 

So safely order'd, that there is no soul, — 

No, not so much perdition as an hair, 

Betid to any creature in the vessel, 

Which thou heard'st cry — which thou saw'st sink. 

Having thus soothed the fears of Miranda, Pros- 
pero takes the opportunity of unfolding to her, the 
events of his life, the power and nature of his 
enchantment, and the circumstances which led 
him, to become the inhabitant of the Enchanted 
Isle: his mind soured by misfortune, appears, 
amidst the gentleness of his nature, stern and 
severe ; there are, however, with this austerity, a 
perfection of virtue, and a nobleness of design, 
that render him truly exalted —devoted to the 
care and instruction of his daughter, he is deeply 
absorbed in her happiness ; for, says Prospero, 

Since in this island we arriv'd, 

Here have I, thy school master, made thee more profit, 

Than other princes can, that have more time, 

For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. 



14 OM THE TEWEST. 

a passage, which at once conveys to us, the ex- 
cellence of Prospero, as a parent, and his inde- 
pendence as a man ; impressed with the importance 
of those duties, which devolve upon parents, in 
regard to a correct education for their children, 
our poet here, throws out a censure upon those, 
who, influenced by the power of fashion, allow 
the minds of their offspring, to be formed, by 
preceptors, that in their avocations, often overlook 
the interesting charge, of forming and directing 
the heart, to those sentiments and maxims, which 
always serve, as the best guidance to moral virtue. 
Colleges and universities, may give, what is termed 
a liberal education, but without the mind, is early 
and deeply inbued, with those principles of moral 
science, which can be reduced to great simplicity, 
all the learning of the schools, will never con- 
stitute that knowledge, so essentially necessary to 
promote human happiness ;— in our intercourse 
with life, we not unfrequently meet with men, 
who, in the possession of every accomplishment 
of scholastic learning, are totally destitute of the 
ties of moral obligation, and to trace the source of 
such turpitude, we can only do it, by referring 
ourselves, to that system of education, which 
stores the memory, and informs the understanding, 
without animating and purifying the heart; "a 
knowledge of words, rather than of things, is 
taught," and it is lamentable to contemplate, to 
use the language of the Rev. J. A. Emerton, of 
Hanwell, whose excellent observations, upon this 
subject, are the offspring, of that genuine philo- 



©M TUE TEBWEIT. 15 

sophy, which inspires the breast of every intelligent 
and virtuous man, " that possessing the treasures of 
ancient wisdom, and instructed by the experience 
of all past ages, it must be solely owing to an 
inattention to moral facts, that modern education 
has not been able to effect considerable improve- 
ment in the human character;" under the tuition, 
of a man like Prospero, we therefore find Miranda 
endowed by every quality, which excite our 
minds, with the most lively emotions for her w T ell- 
being ; — towards the close of this interesting scene, 
we still behold her agitated by the remembrance 
of the wreck, soliciting from her father, the reason 
for raising the storm, to which Prospero replies, 

Know thus far forth, 



By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, 
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies, 
Brought to this shore : and by my prescience, 
I find my zenith doth depend upon 
A most auspicious star ; whose influence, 
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes 

Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions : 

Thou art inclin'd to sleep ; 'tis a good dullness, 
And give it way. — I know thou can'st not choose. 

This sleep is brought upon Miranda, by the art of 
Prospero, in order, that he may hear from Ariel, 
how his commands have been disposed of. The 
spirit Ariel, in conformity to the belief of the 
superstition of Shakspere's time, belonged to the 
regions of the air ; the spirits of which element, 
were considered less malignant and mischievous 
than those who took up their abode on the earth. 



16 QM THE TEdrcST, 

Ariel, therefore,in his character, is mild and gentle, 
and being for a period, enslaved to the will of the 
Enchanter, performs the commands of Prospero, 
with willingness and dexterity ;— in this interview, 
Ariel gives a fearful description of the tempest ; 
but relates the safety of all on board, in the fol- 
lowing manner, 

Not a hair perisli'd — 

On their sustaining garments, not a blemish, 

But fresher than before, and, as thou bad'st me, 

In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle : 

The king's son have I landed by himself; 

Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs 

In an odd angle of the isle. • 

After receiving the orders of Prospero, to appear 
shortly again to him, in the shape of a sea-nymph, 
Ariel departs, when Miranda at this moment 
awakes; and here we meet with Caliban, a crea- 
ture in his nature, possessing all the rude elements 
of the savage, yet maintaining in his mind, a strong- 
resistance to that tyranny, which held him in the 
thraldom of slavery : Caliban creates our pity, 
more than our detestation. This " rude uncouth 
monster/' as he is generally termed by some of 
the commentators of Shakspere, it should be re- 
membered, is seen only in this scene, free from the 
influence of those intoxicating wines, given him 
by Trinculo and Stephano ; and, certainly, amidst 
the intemperance, in which he so freely indulges, 
we see awakened in him, all the worst passions of 
savage life. We learn, however, in this first in- 
troduction to Caliban, that the policy of Prospero, 



QM THE TE»[£ST D 17 

led him to impart, to this unhappy slave a know- 
ledge of language; but deeply impressed with. the 
cruel usage he receives, Caliban remarks to 
Prospero — 

You taught me language — and my profit on't 

Is, I know how to curse ; the red-plague ( 5 ) rid you 

For learning me your language ! 

a rebuke, which Prospero evidently seems, at 
a loss, how to answer. Shakspere has drawn 
Caliban, rude as he is, with feelings of strong 
aversion to slavery, and it is with the view of 
destroying the bondage under which he labours, 
that urges him, in an after part of the play, to 
form the plot against the life of Prospero : refusing, 
however, at this interview, to obey the commands 
of Prospero, Caliban is threatened to be racked, 
with old cramps, and his bones to be filled with 
aches, 



so as to make him roar, 



That beasts shall tremble at his din — 

The scene excites much interest, and, at all events, 
developes some very favorable marks, in the cha- 
racter of Caliban, who seems to feel keenly, the 
severe terms of reproach— as when he is addressing 
Prospero, when alluding to his more early resi- 
dence in the island, he says — 

When thou came'st first, 



Thou stroak'dst, and mad'st much of me, would'st give me 

Water with berries in't ; and teach me how 

To name the bigger light, and how the less, 

That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, 



18 ©m THE TEHPE8T3 

And sheivd thee all the qualities o' the isle, 

The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile. 

an artless and simple narration, which certainly 
indicates much kind feeling. Prospero, however 
replies, that he used Caliban with human care, 
and lodged him in his cell, 



Till he did seek, to violate 



The honor of his child, 



a circumstance, which though it renders Caliban 
guilty, can never justify the conduct of Prospero, 
in such harsh and cruel treatment, for, it ought to 
be kept in view, that this wild and untutored crea- 
ture, was imprudently placed enough in the way, 
to enable him, to make the attempt complained 
of : the noble and generous character of Prospero, 
therefore suffers, by this severe conduct to Cali- 
ban, and I confess, I have never read, or witnessed 
this scene, without experiencing a degree of pity, 
for the poor, abject, and degraded slave. 

The part of Caliban, has generally been exhi- 
bited on the stage, in a manner, so as to excite 
feelings, almost approaching to a painful and disa- 
greeable kind ; but it has remained for the excel- 
lence of Mr. G. Bennett, to delineate, the rude 
and uncul f ivated savage, in a style, which arouses 
our sympathies, in behalf of those, whose destiny, 
it has never been, to enjoy the advantages of 
civilization. Caliban, amidst the rudeness of his 
nature, and possessing an exterior, ugly and mis- 
shapen, will always, however, create attention ;— 
stimulated to revenge, by the severity he suffers, 



TUB T[ 



19 



he has withal, qualities of a redeeming character. 
The study of the part, therefore, requires both 
energy and judgment ;— the task is one of great 
difficulty, but Mr. Bennett, by his just conception 
of it, has arrived at the acme of his art, and no 
one, who has witnessed his performance, of this 
" creature of Shakspere's imagination," but must 
have acknowledged, the unrivalled talents, which 
have guided him to so much success. The ardu- 
ous performance of Caliban, has secured to this 
excellent actor, the well-merited applause of many 
an enlightened audience ; — the spontaneous tribute 
of praise, that affords a strong proof, of the truth 
of these observations— for by the judgment of an 
unprejudiced public, and not of false and self- 
interested criticism, the merits of every performer 
should be ultimately decided. 



Some of the characters drawn by Shakspere, 
were never altogether understood, till the excel- 
lence of the histrionic art developed them. Mr. 
Bennett has given a true picture of Caliban— Shy- 
lock, in the Merchant of Venice, was never com- 
prehended correctly, till Macklin showed by his 
acting, that the deadly spirit of revenge, which 
actuated the Jew, was inconsistent with the style 
of comedy;— this great actor, was the first, who 
performed Shylock, as a tragic character, and 
which led the celebrated Pope, to exclaim, when 
witnessing the performance, 

This is the Jew, 
Which Shakspere drew. 



20 0N THE TEdtPEST, 

In our day, the tragic powers, which Edmund 
Kean so eminently possessed, led him to pourtray 
the tyrant Richard, in a manner, very different 
from that, which influenced the acting of Garrick, 
Cooke, and Kemble ;— the scene between Richard 
and Anne, was, by these actors, always exhibited, 
so as to excite in their audience, ridicule and 
laughter, as it was imagined, that Richard, with 
all his deformity, both of mind and body, making 
love to a woman, whose husband he had mur- 
dered, was perfectly incongruous : — Shakspere 
was blamed for drawing a scene, not in unison with 
nature ; — Kean showed, however, that it was iden- 
tified with truth, for in his approach to Lady 
Anne, his voice assumed all the tone and melody 
of love, and with the flattery which is used, the 
unhappy Anne, falls into the snare, laid for her, by 
the heartless and deep designing Richard. Shak- 
spere knew that, '- Flattery is the key which opes 
the wicket of the female heart," and the fine acting 
of Kean, rendered a scene, which before his time, 
was deemed unnatural, congenial to the probabili- 
ties of human life, and consistent with all the rules 
of dramatic art. 

The first act of the Tempest, embodies much of 
the design of Prospero ;— his chief object, being 
the marriage of his daughter Miranda, with young 
Ferdinand, and to secure this point, he instructs 
his spirit Ariel, to conduct Ferdinand to the sight 
of Miranda, and dispose his mind to the influence 
of love, while Prospero, prepares his daughter, to 



©^ THE TEdtPESTo 21 

be impressed with the same sentiments. Ariel 
takes the opportunity of conveying to Ferdinand, in 
a song accompanied with sweet music, the news 
of his father's death, as it was necessary, the 
young couple, should be betrothed, before the 
knowledge of it came to Alonzo, for engaging 
Ferdinand, without the consent of his father, 
would have rendered the designs of Prospero more 
difficult; we have, therefore, a very interesting 
scene where Miranda discovers Ferdinand, whom 
she supposes a spirit, but Prospero informs her, 



This gallant, which thou see'st, 



Was in the wreck ; and, but his something stain'd 
With grief, (that's beauty's canker), thou might'st call him 
A goodly person ; he hath lost his fellows, 
And strays about to find them. 

The interview, between Ferdinand and Miranda 
is beautifully drawn, and displays great power in 
Shakspere's knowledge of human nature:— Mi- 
randa's affections are soon won, — Ferdinand com- 
municates his birth, and quality, but not before 
Prospero shows to the lover of Miranda, some 
rough usage, lest he should think his prize too 
lightly gained— accordingly, in an after part of 
the play, we find Ferdinand employed in the 
piling of logs, the labor of which, seems to distract 
the tender feelings of Miranda : — Prospero being 
in the distance, Ferdinand breathes to her " his 
soul in love," while she, with all the simplicity of 
a child of nature, ingeniously proffers herself, as 
the wife of her beloved Ferdinand, and in this ex- 



22 on THE TEDWE1T. 

change of sentiment, we have one of those fine 
and exquisite touches of nature, as Stevens very 
justly remarks, which distinguishes Shakspere, 
from all other writers, when Miranda says, 

I am a fool ! 

To weep at what I am glad of. 

she being unconscious, that the excess of joy, and 
the extremity of grief, not unfrequently bring 
relief by a flood of tears. 

In the first scene of the second act, we meet 
with Alonzo, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, and 
others, contemplating their unhappy fate, and 
pondering over the dangers they have encoun- 
tered ; — Gonzalo makes some interesting remarks, 
whilst Alonzo regrets his voyage to Tunis, which 
was, for the object of marrying his daughter Cla- 
ribel, to an African Prince ; he bewails the loss of 
his son Ferdinand, whom he supposes drowned, 
and amidst the desolation around them, Gonzalo 
offers some curious views, upon the form of go- 
vernment, which he would adopt, were he to have 
the sovereignty of the island. 

F th' commonwealth, I would by contraries 
Execute all things ; for no kind of traffick 
Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; 
Letters should not be known ; wealth, poverty, 
And use of service, none ; contract, succession, 
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, olives, none ; 
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ; 
No occupation ; all men idle, all, 
And women too, but innocent and pure — 
No sovereignty. 



THE TEHPEST, 



23 



All things in common should produce 
Without sweat or endeavor ; treason, felony, 
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine 
Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth, 
Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance, 
To feed my innocent people. 

These observations of the old councillor, as it 
has been justly observed by Dr. Warburton, have 
evidently been introduced by Shakspere, as a satire, 
upon the Utopian treatises of government, though 
among the ancient Spartans, efforts were made to 
reduce human society, to a state, approaching to 
the simplicity, which is here alluded to— hence it 
is, that these philosophers and law-givers, Minos, 
Plato, and Lycurgus, have been by the admirers 
of such a system, ranked amongst its adherents : — 
in modern times, those illustrious men, Sir Thomas 
More, Rousseau, Montesquieu, and Mably, are 
likewise named among its supporters, and who, 
in their speculations on governments, affecting 
human happiness, have argued ingeniously, in be- 
half of this social condition of mankind, unconge- 
nial, however, as it appears with the habits and 
feelings of our nature. ( 6 ) 






Amidst the many pleasing, and agreeable 
events of this play, the scene before us, however, 
gives a sad picture, and a woful specimen, of the 
degradation which we not unfrequently meet with, 
in the records of human action; Prospero, the 
rightful Duke of Milan, a noble and generous 
character, devoting himself to the study of those 



24 On THE TEQWEST, 

pursuits, which would have tended to promote 
knowledge amongst his people, is pounced upon, by 
his brother Anthonio, aided by Alonzo, King of 
Naples, and under the most profound confidence, 
which the generous Prospero reposed in them, he, 
with his daughter, a child at this period, of the 
tender age of three years, are seized, put into a 
boat, so crazy in its condition, without sails, or 
masts, — so rotten, that, 

" The very rats instinctively had quit it/' 

and there, some leagues at sea, left to the mercy 
of the wild and tempestuous ocean. This conspi- 
racy, diabolical as it appears, is perfectly in ac- 
cordance with the treachery, that is exhibited in 
the scene, about to be described, the passage in 
the commencement of which, having formed the 
source of the foregoing observations. 

We left the good Gonzalo, speculating upon the 
form of government, which he wished to adopt in 
the island, but these speculations, had of course 
no effect, upon the party, to whom they were 
addressed; — the mild and gentle Ariel, appears 
at this juncture, playing solemn music : Gonzalo 
falls into a heavy sleep, and Alonzo feeling him- 
self overcome, gives way also to excessive drowsi- 
ness ; but not till he receives the assurance of 
Anthonio and Sebastian, that they will be his 
guard, and save him from all harm. The base 
Sebastian and Anthonio, taking advantage of this 
occurrence, enter into a plot, to murder Alonzo, 



©M THE TiHretTa 25 

and the others, with the view of Sebastian gaining 
the throne of Naples. Shakspere has drawn the 
scene with his usual vigor, and which conveys, to 
us, some remembrance, of the horror, which seizes 
our minds, when the ambitious tyrant Macbeth, 
murders Duncan in his sleep;— the language of 
these assassins, is truly appropriate to their dark 
conceptions, and shows the distrust, which villains 
always hold, towards each other, before they fully 
join in compact, to accomplish their wicked de- 
signs : at the moment they are about to plunge 
their swords, into the breasts of their intended vic- 
tims, the interposition of Ariel saves them : Gon- 
zalo awakes, discovers the treachery, and quickly 
informs Alonzo of his danger. The scene termi- 
nates by Ariel, saying, 

Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have done, 
So king go safely on, and seek thy son. 

I cannot, however, close my remarks, connected 
with these events, without alluding to a passage 
of Anthonio's, when he is speaking of Claribel, 
Queen of Tunis, 

—She that dwells 



Ten leagues beyond man's life, 

A space, where every cubit, 

Seems to cry out — How shall that Claribel 

Measure us back to Naples. 

This is evidently a mere poetical fancy of Shak- 
spere's, for no one, will suppose, that our author, 
was so ignorant, as not to know, that Naples was 



26 on TUE TElUPESTn 

separated from Tunis, only by the breadth of the 
Mediterranean sea, yet, a writer of great note, 
gravely assures us, that this is one instance, amongst 
many, of Shakspere's ignorance of geography, 
when he supposes Tunis and Naples, to have been 
at such an immeasurable distance from each other. 
The same imputation has been made by various 
writers ; it is, however, to be regretted , that a 
commentator like Steevens, should have fallen into 
such a prejudice, an author, otherwise distin- 
guished for the many excellent observations, which 
he has made upon the writings of Shakspere. 

The vast and comprehensive view of the cus- 
toms and manners of ancient states, connected 
with his minute description of countries, situated 
in the most remote regions of the earth, render it 
highly improbable, that Shakspere, was in any way 
deficient, in this department of human knowledge. 
Indeed, Mr. Pope, when alluding to his great 
acquirements, remarks, " Whatever object of 
nature, or branch of science he either speaks of or 
describes, it is always with competent, if not ex- 
tensive learning." Mr. Theobald, notwithstanding 
these considerations, also finds fault with the geo- 
graphical information of our author, and accuses 
him of gross absurdity, in the play of the Two 
Gentlemen of Verona ; where Valentine, is said 
to travel from Milan to Verona by sea ;— the reason 
however, of all this confusion, as Dr. Johnson 
very justly observes, seems to be, " That he took 
his story from a novel, which he sometimes fol- 



®M TOE TEMPEST. 27 

lowed, and sometimes forsook, sometimes remem- 
bered, and sometimes forgot." 

We, therefore, in considering this subject, should 
always keep in view, how much the text of Shak- 
spere, from a variety of typographical errors ( 7 ) and 
other inaccuracies has been damaged, the interpo- 
lation of the players of his time, having, by an 
undue interference, altered the meaning and con- 
struction of many passages. Unconscious of his 
great genius, and careless of future fame, Shak- 
spere, some years before he died, retired to his 
native place, and left his works, to be carried down 
the stream of time, without even an effort, on his 
part, to collect them : ( 8 )— they, however, have be- 
come imperishable, and, though errors, and some 
apparent absurdities, are occasionally to be met 
with, arising out of those causes to which I have 
just alluded, the volumes of this great poet will 
ever be cherished, as those bright gems of literature, 
" which the human heart endear ; " whilst the 
power and capacity of his intellect, shall continue 
to be estimated to an extent, that we may freely 
assert, without any exaggeration, to quote from 
a modern biographer, " a man may hope," 

To rival all but Shakspere's name below. 

In the delineation of character., where dig- 
nity of language, and purity of feeling, are re- 
quired, no writer has ever surpassed Shakspere : 
the beauty of his diction, the elegance of his style, 



28 ©^ TOE TEflWElT. 

in unison, with the sublimity of his conception, 
never fail to create in our minds, thoughts of the 
most exalted kind ; and we rise from the perusal 
of his works, always impressed, with sentiments, 
which give us the strongest attachment to virtue : 
we are influenced by the mighty powers of his 
genius, and are forcibly carried, into that current 
of admiration, to consider him, not only an illus- 
trious poet, but one of the greatest moral philoso- 
phers that ever lived. He fathomed the deep 
recesses of the human heart, and penetrated into 
the feelings of our nature, with a minuteness and 
accuracy, which leave us in wonder, when we 
contemplate the magnitude of those powers, with 
which he was endowed, beyond all other men. 

In that excellent advice, of Polonius to Laertes, 
in which are embodied, those maxims which 
never should be lost sight of, in our progress 
through life, Shakspere arrives at the basis of all 
moral feeling, when alluding to the passion of 
self-love, a passion which, if properly regu- 
lated, really becomes one of the first of virtues ; 
for, he who is guided by it correctly, will not only 
secure his own happiness, but endeavour to ex- 
tend a portion of it, to all his fellow creatures 
around him. Pope says, " Self-love is the spring 
of all human action ;" but differing very materially 
from the cold philosophy of Rochefoucault, the 
author of the Essay on Man, qualifies the asser- 
tion, by justly observing, that self-love and social 
are the same : it is this feeling to which Shakspere 



OM THE TEHWEST. 29 

alludes, when the old courtier, Polonius, tells 
his son, 

This, above all, to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night, the day, 
Thou cartst not then be false to any man. 

Yet, notwithstanding this praise, so justly ex- 
tended to our bard, regarding his character, as a 
moralist, we have authors, of the present day, 
enjoying a high distinction in letters, gravely 
telling us, that Shakspere, in his writings, fre- 
quently sacrifices virtue to convenience, and that, 
in the plots of his plays, he generally keeps no 
moral purpose in view; — a fault, they say, the bar- 
barity of the age cannot extenuate ( 9 ). If Shakspere 
do not allow the design of his plots, to be frus- 
trated, by the connexion of moral relation, the 
evil that results from vice, is however, not dis- 
regarded, though the denouement of his plots, bring- 
about no studied moral ; his delineations of life, 
are congenial to nature ; he describes the events 
of human action, agreeable to the history, from 
which he forms his dramas, and, therefore, when 
a virtuous character is brought forward, we uni- 
versally find precepts maintained, that have a 
tendency, to promote virtue ; while, on the other 
hand, when vice is beheld " in its own image," in 
the picture of such men as Anthonio and Sebastian, 
we then see it, presented to us, as the language of 
Pope, has it, 



A monster of such horrid mein, 

That, to be hated, needs only to be seen. 



30 ON TOE TEdreSTo 

The false and fastidious criticism of modern 
authors, has led them into observations, connected 
with the writings of Shakspere, that bespeak, 
neither a correct taste, nor a generous feeling — " to 
please was his chief object," and, that he paid no 
attention to that retributive justice, which per- 
vades all human affairs, are remarks, echoed by 
these stern and frigid moralists ; a censure, truly 
unmerited, and which indicates, a total ignorance 
of that philosophy of mind, which guided the pen 
of our immortal poet, in all his dramatic produc- 
tions : it is true, amidst the excellence of moral 
feeling, which is to be found in the works of 
Shakspere, blemishes and defects, of no ordinary 
nature, exist : the age in which he lived, was noted 
for its licentiousness, and if, in various passages, 
the style and language of his composition, with the 
gross allusions, which are occasionally to be met 
with, be in accordance with the character of that 
period, the consideration, that he wrote for a 
people, rude and indelicate in their manners, 
should disarm criticism from that severity, which 
some authors, of the present day, have so un- 
generously bestowed upon him. Our admiration, 
for the genius of Shakspere, cannot obviate these 
imperfections, but it may justify us, in the task of 
vindicating him, from the imputation, of his being 
of all writers of his time, " the Coryphceus of 
obscenity ; " an accusation, entirely groundless, 
when we know, that he had, for his cbtemporaries, 
(and who, it is mournful to contemplate, were the 
fellow associates of Shakspere, during his early 



THE TEGlPEtT, 



31 



s career in London,) such unfortunate men of genius, 
as the profligate and abandoned Robert Greene, 
the licentious and worthless George Peele, with 
the dissolute, but elegant poet, Christopher Mar- 
lowe ; nay, even the learned— the classical Ben 
Johnson, is not exempt, in his works, from the 
vices and follies of that period ; and, with the same 
feeling of justice, should have had his share of 
reproof, but, as we are told, that this excellent 
scholar died, full of contrition, for his manifold 
transgressions, of impiety and indecency, he, for- 
sooth, escapes censure, while Shakspere, having 
sunk into the grave, without leaving behind him, 
any record of repentance, the lash of criticism is 
extended to our illustrious bard, in those un- 
measured terms, which all, guided by candour and 
frankness, never can sanction. 

In the scenes where the higher emotions of the 
soul, are called into action, Shakspere is truly 
grand, but he is equally powerful, when he at- 
tempts to delineate those characters, which excite 
the lighter feelings of merriment and humour ; 
where every sentence is a laugh, " to clapping 
theatres, and shouting crowds," to make, as the 
poet, Blair, has it, 

-E'en thick lipp'd musing Melancholy 



Gather up her face into a smile 
Before she is aware. 



Trinculo, a jester, and Stephano, a drunken 
butler, who appear in the Tempest, are characters 



32 ©5^ THE TEMPEST. 

of this description;— the comic humour, and ex- 
cessive drollery, exhibited in the scene, where 
they meet with Caliban, make us, for a time, forget 
the more sombre incidents of the play ;— their wit, 
their jests, and their merriment, are well given, 
and afford a strong illustration, that the master- 
mind of Shakspere, exceeds all other authors, 
whether in portraying the sportive and pleasing 
pictures of comedy, or drawing the more sublime 
and imposing scenes of tragedy. Mrs. Montague, 
a learned and elegant authoress, when refuting 
Voltaire, in his unjust attack, upon the writings, 
of our much admired bard, very truly says, " that 
Voltaire has never taken into account, that Shak- 
spere has written the best comedy in our language ; 
that the same man should have had such variety of 
talents, as to have produced Macbeth, and the 
Merry Wives of Windsor, is astonishing. Where is 
there an instance, among the ancients, or moderns, 
of one poet writing the sublime, and pathetic, the 
boldest invention of fiction, and the most just and 
accurate delineation of characters, and also pos- 
sessing, the vis comica, in its highest perfection?" 

In the scene, to which I have alluded, Ste- 
phano and Trinculo get drunk, and Caliban, 
partaking deeply in their potations, each of them 
become, in their own estimation, a hero, verifying 
the old adage, " He that is drunk, is as great as a 
king." Under these heroic impressions, they con- 
spire against the life of Prospero ;— the powers of 
the Magician, however, set to nought, their con- 



TUE TElMltFESTc 



33 



spiracy, and the punishment that follows, is very 
humourously alluded to, mingled as it is, with a 
great deal of severity. 

In Hamlet, we have a very witty expression of 
the Grave Digger, regarding the character of the 
English nation, and, in this droll and ludicrous 
scene, where Trinculo discovers Caliban, Shakspere 
takes the same opportunity of being satirical —the 
facetious jester exclaims, " What have we here ? a 
man or a fish. — A strange fish ; were I in England 
now (as once I was), and had this fish painted, not 
a holiday-fool there, but would give a piece of 
silver ; there would this monster make a man, — any 
strange beast there makes a man ; when they will 
not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will 
lay out ten to see a dead Indian." This is correctly 
true ; the desire of seeing strange sights, still 
strongly prevails among the EDglish people, and 
which, coupled with their great credulity, give an 
amusing proof, how far our unequalled bard is 
right, in the delineation of their character. 



Shakspere's felicity, in giving to the Muse of 
Comedy, that brilliancy of wit, which will ever be 
unrivalled, has been somewhat exemplified in the 
scenes, just now alluded to. From the days of 
the celebrated Edward Alleyn, our stage has been 
adorned by the comic powers of not a few, who, 
by their art, have given to the lighter characters 
of the drama, that spirit and animation, which 
purely belong to them ; none, however, have sur- 



34 ON TUE TEMPEST, 

passed, in excellence, that eminent actor of the 
present day, Mr. Harley, who, in his representa- 
tion of Trinculo, seems truly to be influenced 
with the same inspiration, as that which guided 
the genius of our great poet ;— chaste and correct, 
in all his performances, Mr. Harley never oversteps 
the boundaries of nature :-— in the progress of his 
professional career, he has always formed a striking 
contrast, to those, who, in our time, catering to the 
vitiated taste of the vulgar, have gained notoriety, 
by assuming, in the place of genuine comedy, 
all the antic-tricks of wild grimace, and low 
buffoonery. 

In alluding to the excellence of Mr. Harley in 
Trinculo, I cannot here omit, the manly and dig- 
nified deportment exhibited by Mr. Macready, 
in the character of Prospero ; the delineation of 
which, was quite in accordance, with those powers, 
that have justly ranked, this great actor, as the 
first tragedian of the day; — Miss Helen Faucit 
presented us, with a beautiful picture of Miranda, 
whose interesting qualities, were pourtrayed with 
a delicacy of feeling, that reflects great lustre 
upon those high attainments, which hitherto 
have distinguished the career of this talented and 
accomplished actress ;— whilst in the mild and 
gentle Ariel, by Miss P. Horton, we, for a time, 
forgot the realities of life, by being transported 
into all the fancies of the sweetest delusion; the 
songs of Ariel were given by this chaste and 
elegant performer, in a style, which enhanced to 



. OM TUE TEMPEST. 35 

a great degree, the wild enchantment of the 
scenery ; — with this concentration of talent, com- 
bined with the admirable representation of Fer- 
dinand, by Mr. Anderson, with the comic humour 
displayed by Mr. Bartley as Stephano, it perhaps 
will be no exaggeration to say, that the play of 
the Tempest, was never, at any former period, 
brought forward, with more advantage, than when 
it was last performed, upon the boards of Covent 
Garden Theatre. While the stage is appropriated 
to the real purposes of the drama, which should 
always, veluti in speculum, portray the passions and 
manners of life, it must ever be regarded, as the 
highest intellectual amusement, which the human 
mind can enjoy;— let it therefore, be held sacred 
to genius ;— let not our theatres, in future, be pol- 
luted, by those scenes, that lately disgraced them ; 
let us protest against that base and sordid feeling, 
which would ultimately convert the British stage 
into an arena of wild beasts, unfitted even for the 
pastime of holiday fools ; awakening to our ima- 
gination, the worst days of ancient Rome, when 
the people, engulphed in licentious barbarism, 
preferred the brutal exhibition of gladiators, to the 
more graceful and refined efforts, of those, whose 
noble task was, 

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, 
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, 
To make mankind in conscious virtue bold, 
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold. 

As we advance in the play, we find Prospero 



36 ©^ TOE TEtMPESTa 

availing himself of the dark secrets of his magic 
spells, in order to promote his ulterior views, and 
we here see, with what advantage, Shakspere 
brings forward, those preternatural beings, who do 
not act, merely as subordinate agents, but always, 
as objects, conducive to the developement of 
his story ; shewing, as an elegant authoress re- 
marks, that our poet has, in this respect, entered 
more into theatrical propriety, than the Greek 
tragedians; — the direful character, which the 
superstitions of his country possessed, has also 
given, to Shakspere, a greater degree of supe- 
riority, over the ancient drama. In the scene 
which we now enter upon, we meet again with 
Alonzo, and his companions ; and, though we have 
not the horror, which is inspired by the Witches 
in Macbeth, performing their fearful incantations 
upon the blasted heath, nor the pale and melan- 
choly Ghost of Hamlet, at the midnight hour, 
visiting the glimpses of the moon, making " night 
hideous," by revealing a deed of murder, yet the 
supernatural powers of Ariel, subject to the com- 
mand of Prospero, are sufficient to create terror 
and dismay to Alonzo, and his followers ; — their 
ears are saluted with strange and solemn music ; — 
Prospero stands invisible in the distance, while 
various groupes of spirits enter, bringing in a 
banquet ;— they dance about, with gentle actions of 
salutations, and, inviting the king, and the rest to 
eat, they depart ; — Ariel appears, and, amidst the 
noise of thunder and lightning, the banquet va- 
nishes Ariel informs Alonzo and his party of 



Qn THE TEGlPEiTo 37 

his business, and, under their fear and amaze- 
ment, he bids them remember. 

That you three, 



From Milan, did supplant good Prospero, 
Expos'd unto the sea, (which hath requit it) 
Him and his innocent child : for which foul deed. 
The powers delaying, not forgetting, have 
Incens'd the seas, and shores, — yea, all the creatures, 
Against your peace. 

Ling'ring perdition, shall step by step attend 
You, and your ways. 

In this passage, an instructive lesson is con- 
veyed, and a warning held out to those, who, like 
Alonzo and Anthonio, amidst the machinations of 
wild ambition, and surrounded by that wealth and 
power, often obtained through deeds of cruel 
oppression, seldom reflect, that the unforeseen 
events of human life, not unfrequently, bring 
about a retribution of justice, which generally 
leads to their destruction. 

Prospero praises the gentle Ariel for his dex- 
trous power, and says, 

My high charms work, 
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up 
In their distractions ; they now are in my power ; 
And in these fits, I leave them, whilst I visit 
Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd) 
And his and my lov'd darling. 

The good and virtuous Gonzalo, though amaz'd in 
beholding these frightful appearances, endeavours 



38 CM THE TEQ^retTo 

to amuse his companions, by telling them to be of 
good cheer, for those sights, only reminded him of 
the tales he had heard when a boy. Alonzo and 
the others, however, are influenced by different 
feelings— terror and dismay prevail— and we behold 
them, suffering under all the troubles of wicked 
men, driven desperate, from the recollection of 
their guilt. The scene closes, with a terrific 
description from Alonzo, of what he felt, through 
the workings of a troubled and guilty conscience :— 

O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! 
Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it ; 
The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder, 
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd 
The name of Prosper. 

The fourth Act opens with a most pleasing and 
delightful scene, in Prospero ratifying his promises, 
by giving, to Ferdinand, his beloved Miranda;— 
the language, upon this occasion, is pregnant with 
sentiments, of the most lovely and delicate nature, 
and, as Prospero wishes to give the young couple, 
a specimen of his art, we have the splendid imagina- 
tion of Shakspere, called forth, in all its grandeur 
and beauty. Ariel's incantation, in the scene with 
Alonzo, created spectres of a fearful appearance ; 
but, here we have the Magician, bestowing upon 
Ferdinand and Miranda, every thing, that can 
please the eye, or captivate the mind ;— the con- 
ception, surpassing in beauty, 

All that Poet ever feign'd, or Painter drew. 



©M TUE TEMPEST- 39 

To celebrate the contract of true love, the vision 
displays the spirits Ceres, Juno, and Iris, who 
each, in a strain of composition, distinguished for 
pastoral simplicity, delicacy of feeling, and great 
beauty, compliment the lovers, and extend to them, 

their benedictions — 

\ 



That they may prosperous be, 



And honor'd in their issue. 

This lovely scene, terminates with a graceful 
dance of Nymphs, and Reapers, — the whole 
vanishing on a sudden, amidst which, Prospero is 
seen, under all the influence of violent passion, 
leaving Ferdinand,, with his Miranda, in wonder 
and amazement. Prospero takes the opportunity 
of soothing Ferdinand, and repeats that well-known 
beautiful passage, which, for its sublimity, has 
never been excelled. 

You look, my son, in a mov'd sort, 
As if you were dismay'd : be cheerful, sir, 
Our revels now are ended : these our actors, 
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and 
Are melted into air, into thin air ; 
And like the baseless fabric of this vision, 
The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a rack behind ! — We are such stuff, 
As dreams are made on, and our little life, 
Is rounded with a sleep. 

These reflections, replete with magnificence, 



40 @M TUE TEMPEST. 

are the indications of a great mind ; — the emotion 
of anger, which f rospero discovers towards the 
termination of the vision, proceeding from the 
recollection of Caliban's plot, perhaps, led him into 
that train of feeling, as to look upon the insignifi- 
cancy of all human affairs, in the view, which has 
just now been described. It has, however, been 
observed, that the plot of Caliban, was a circum- 
stance, not sufficient to move a man like Prospero, 
into that gust of passion, by which, he was in- 
fluenced; but, Dr. Warburton, very justly remarks, 
that, if we look more narrowly into the case, we 
shall have reason to admire our author's wonderful 
knowledge of nature. " There was," says he, 
" something in it, with which great minds, are 
most deeply affected, and that is the crime of 
ingratitude." Prospero probably, was under the 
impression, that Caliban was ungrateful, and 
which, combined with the recollection of his 
brother's conduct, would, very naturally, affect a 
generous mind, with the most bitter anguish. 

In many of his plays, Shakspere seems, not to 
have studied that scenic effect, which the Greek 
tragedians were passionately fond of, nor to have 
relied upon the success of his dramatic skill, like 
some of the moderns, to the pomp and splendour 
of stage exhibition ; — his scenes are often so com- 
paratively diminutive, that, in representation, the 
effect is much obscured ; — it is in the closet, 
however, where intellectual enjoyment is more 
frequently found, by the perusal of those pages, 



OM TUE TEMPEST, 



41 



which tell us, with what truth, our poet could 
delineate the feelings and passions of the human 
heart; — when we take into consideration, the cir- 
cumstances under which Shakspere wrote, when 
the playhouse, of his time, was little better than a 
barn, without any adventitious aid, to produce, to 
his unlettered audience, any thing like scenic gran- 
deur, we need not wonder, that many of his plays 
are deficient in these advantages ; yet, notwith- 
standing those defects in dramatic arrangement, 
his genius has overcome every obstacle, as we, in 
the present day, have witnessed the power, by 
which he was guided, when his brilliant fancy, 
led him to display, what is considered, the beauty 
and elegance of stage exhibition. No one, there- 
fore, who has lately seen this scene of the vision, 
where Ferdinand and Miranda receive the com- 
plimentary adulation of the spirits, Ceres, Juno, 
and Iris, but must have done homage to the un- 
rivalled fame of Shakspere ; at the same time, 
feeling deeply impressed, with the noble exertions 
of Mr. Macready, who, in his splendid and beau- 
tiful exhibition of the Tempest, has given us, a 
strong proof of the excellence of his judgment, in 
connection, with a classic taste, which will ever 
reflect, upon him, the highest honour ;— by an 
unparalleled devotion to the works of this great 
poet of nature, Mr. Macready has deservedly won 
the applause, and gained the esteem of his 
country. 



The last scene of the fourth act, brings us the 



42 ©^ THE TEireST 3 

re-appearance of Caliban, and his two drunken 
companions; and the same drollery and comic 
humour prevail, which characterize all Shakspere's 
delineations of low comedy. There is, however, 
an expression of Caliban's in this scene, which I 
cannot omit, as I believe it has been passed over, 
without notice, by the numerous commentators 
upon the writings of Shakspere. Caliban, in 
leading Stephano and Trinculo, to the cell of 
Prospero, with the intent of murdering him, their 
attention is occupied, by finding the garments, 
belonging to Prospero, a prize, not to be over- 
looked, by the two drunken sailors ; — Caliban, 
enraged at the delay, which this circumstance 
creates, reproaches his associates, and tells them, 

We shall lose our time, 

And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes, 
With foreheads villanous low, 

an observation, which seemingly has never been 
adverted to, though it evidently corresponds, with 
the science of Phrenology, of the present day, the 
general principles of which, were well known to 
the ancients ; Shakspere seems likewise to have 
been aware of these principles, and to have under- 
stood, what is now generally admitted, that the 
capacity of intellect, in different animals, depends 
upon the particular formation of the brain. The 
same knowledge is also displayed by our poet, in 
the play of Hamlet, where the young prince, in 
speaking of the likeness of his father, uses these 
words, 

The front of Jove himself. ( 10 ) 



®M THE TEWEST, 43 

The fifth, and last act, opens with Prospero 
appearing in his magic robes, saying to his spirit 
Ariel,— 

Now does my project gather to a head, 

My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time 

Goes upright with his carriage. 

Prospero asks Ariel, 

How's the clay ? 

who replies, 

On the sixth hour, at which time, my lord, 
You said our work should cease. 

Shakspere had met with much censure from the 
learned Ben Johnson, and other fastidious critics 
of his day, in not adhering, in his plays, to the 
unity of time, in the composition of which, he 
was guided by no antecedent laws ; the model of 
the Grecian stage was, to him, no beacon, and, 
forsaking all the established rules of Aristotle, his 
wild poetic imagination, luxuriated in the regions 
of nature, unfettered by the learning, either of 
ancient or modern times, 

Existence saw him, spurn her bounded reign, 
And panting time, toil'd, after him in vain. 

We have however, in the play of the Tempest, the 
most strict observance, with regard to these unities, 
and our author, not only here, but in other parts of 
the piece, particularly alludes to this,— shewing, as 



44 ON TUE TEHPESTo 

a commentator, very justly observes, " that Shak- 
spere, notwithstanding the satire of his contem- 
poraries, could write a play, within all the strictest 
laws of regularity, the fable scarcely taking up, a 
greater number of hours, than are employed in the 
representation." 

Prospero, hearing from Ariel, that the king, and 
his followers, are still prisoners, 

In the lime-grove 
Which weather fends his cell, 

gives orders, to relieve them ; but, not before, he 
exhibits some fine touches of feeling, for their 
afflictions, displaying every noble and generous 
sentiment, though, by their grievous wrongs, he 
had been deeply injured. 

The feelings of humanity are here so arTectingly 
touched and the nobleness of remission upon 
repentance so finely depicted, that I cannot re- 
frain giving, in full, the sentiments of Prospero, 
conveying to us a beautiful proof, how far the mind 
of Shakspere, rising by degrees to the summit of 
all human virtue, exceeds, in moral feeling, any 
thing which is to be found in ancient or modern 
times. 

Ariel says to Prospero, 

The king, 

His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted 

And the remainder mourning over them 



am THE TEdrcSTc 45 

Brimful of sorrow and dismay ; but chiefly 
Him that you termed the good old lord Gonzalo ; 
His tears run down his beard like winter drops 
From eaves of reeds : your charms so strongly works them 
That if you now behold them, your affections 
Would become tender. 
Prospero. Dost thou think so, Spirit ? 
Ariel. Mine would, sir, were I human. 

Prospero. And mine shall. 

Hast thou which art but air, a touch, a feeling 
Of their afflictions? and shall not myself 
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, 
Passioned as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? 
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the 

quick ; 
Yet with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury 
Do I take part. The rarer action is 
In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, 
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend 
Not a frown further. 

The accomplishment of his designs being nearly 
realized, Prospero wishes to abjure his potent art, 
and break those charms, which the powers of his 
enchantment gave him. 

I'll break, says he, my staff, 
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, 
And deeper than did ever plummet sound, 
I'll drown my book. 

With these intentions, Prospero introduces that 
remarkable speech, commencing, 

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; 

which, from its allusion to the popular stories 
concerning the power of magicians, conveys to 



46 ©^ TC^E TEMPEST, 

us, a very high idea of Shakspere's knowledge of 
the enchantments, which prevailed among the 
ancients: — this speech, besides possessing great 
poetical beauty, has given rise to much observa- 
tion, regarding the learning of Shakspere. In my 
remarks upon the play of the Merchant of Venice, 
when alluding to this subject, I was then disposed 
to believe, from the style and idiom of Shakspere's 
writings, that he had an intimate acquaintance, 
with the Latin, and had studied closely, the 
peculiar construction of that language ; various 
passages, in the Tempest, prove his knowledge of 
the poetry of Virgil and Ovid ; Mr. Holt affirming, 
that the beginning of the speech, above alluded to, 
is nearly copied from the last mentioned poet ; — 
the original lines are, 

Auroeque, & venti, montesque, amnesque, lacusque, 
Diique omnes nemorum, diique omnes noctis adeste. 

This opinion of Mr. Holt is supported by Mr. Pope, 
and a host of other authors, the latest of whom, 
in our day, is the learned and ingenious Dr. 
Macginn, who, in an article, which appeared 
lately in Fraser's Magazine, displays much clas- 
sical erudition, in behalf of the scholastic learning 
of Shakspere ; — volumes, however, have been 
written, with an attempt to prove our author's 
entire ignorance of the ancient classics, and that 
he derived his acquaintance with the originals, 
through translations alone : amongst the number 
of those, who contend that Shakspere had never 
perused the Latin authors, and that his knowledge 



TOE TEQilPEiT, 



47 



of Roman events was only obtained through books, 
then translated into English, are to be found the 
names of Suckling, Denham, Dryden, the cele- 
brated Dr. Johnson, and more lately the author of 
that excellent piece of biography, in the second 
volume of the Cabinet Cyclopaedia, conducted by 
the Rev. Dionysius Lardner, a work, which, 
though adverse to the question of Shakspere being 
a learned scholar, nevertheless throws more light, 
in a condensed form, upon the history of our illus- 
trious bard, than any production, which has yet 
appeared. 



We have now arrived at the denouement, of this 
beautiful drama, which conveys to our view, a 
scene of the most pleasing and agreeable kind ; 
Prospero, with a mind, endowed by all those high 
and exalted qualities, which render man, in the 
possession of such attributes, a being truly mag- 
nificent, draws from us every feeling of admira- 
tion ; — we see in his character, the human heart 
influenced by every virtuous and noble sentiment ; 
but, when we behold the opposite picture, in the 
base treachery of Alonzo and his companions, we 
lament, that such degeneracy, should be found, so 
prevalent amongst mankind : there is virtue, in the 
world, but, alas ! vice has ever had the predomi- 
nance, and to find out truly the cause of such 
moral evil, has, as yet, baffled the enquiries of 
philosophy ;— there is one consideration, however, 
which should not be overlooked ;— man never yet 
has enjoyed in states, which are called civilized, the 



48 ©M THE TEH!PEST Q 

full extent of those advantages, that Nature has 
given to him ; the powers of his intellect crippled, 
and the qualities of his heart obscured, by false 
and narrow views of education, he has been, in 
all ages, the victim of corrupt prejudice, combined 
with low and selfish ignorance, which have greatly 
been the means of perpetuating those wars, intes- 
tine broils, and bitter malignant passions, that 
have sullied and disgraced his character. 

The magic charms of Prospero being about to 
dissolve, the spirit Ariel re-enters, bringing with 
him Alonzo, attended by Gonzalo ;— Sebastian 
and Anthonio, are also seen, accompanied by 
Adrian and Francisco : they all enter a circle, 
which Prospero had made, and here Prospero 
takes the opportunity of paying, to the good 
Gonzalo, that tribute of praise, which his virtues 
demanded. To Alonzo and Sebastian, he offers 
the most severe reproaches for their cruelty to 
him, and his daughter ; while to Anthonio, his 
brother, who had, from his mind, expelled remorse 
and nature, he nobly says, 

I do forgive thee, 



Unnatural though thou art. 

Unable still, however, to discover Prospero, 
with amazement, they stand, in their guilty con- 
dition. Ariel is told by the Magician, to bring 
from his cell, his hat and rapier, and bidding the 
spirit quickly visit the king's ship, and bring with 
him the Mariners, with the Master and Boat- 



OM THE TE»EST a 49 

swain, to his presence, Prospero stands before 
them, undisguised in his true character of the 
Duke of Milan ! 

Embracing his noble friend Gonzalo, Prospero 
bids him and his company, a hearty welcome, 
whilst Alonzo, under all the feelings of wonder 
and astonishment, implores pardon, and resigns 
the dukedom— ( n ) Anthonio and Sebastian are 
reminded of their treachery ; —amidst the troubles 
and perplexities of these events, Alonzo seeks 
from Prospero the particulars of his preservation, 
how he came to the island, and begs some tidings 
of his dear son Ferdinand, — Prospero replies, 

Tis not a chronicle of a day, 



Nor a relation for a breakfast, 
Befitting this first meeting. 

and invites Alonzo to the entrance of the cell, 
where Ferdinand and Miranda are seen playing 
at chess— the scene becomes deeply interesting, 
Alonzo discovers his son, whilst Miranda, pleased 
and amazed, exclaims— 

O ! wonder ! 

How many goodly creatures are there here ! 
How beauteous mankind is ! O, brave new world 
That has such people in't ! 

Ferdinand tells his father, that the lovely maid is 
his, and daughter 

To the famous Duke of Milan, 

Of whom, so oft, he had heard renown. 



50 ©^ the TEMPEST* 

Gonzalo invokes the blessings of the Gods upon the 
happy couple, and Alonzo, in his extacy, says, 

Give me your hands, 

Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart, 

That doth not wish you joy. 

Ariel re-enters with the Master and Boatswain, 
who relate the safe condition of the ship, 

Which but three glasses since, 



They saw wreck'd. 

Prospero bids Alonzo not infest his mind, with the 
strangeness of this eventful story, as he assures 
him, he shall shortly resolve unto him, all its 
accidents ;— Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo ap- 
pear with their stolen apparel, which, amidst the 
gravity of the scene, creates much merriment. 
Prospero, with his usual generosity, pardons 
them, and then, addressing himself to Alonzo, 
invites him and his train, 

To his poor cell 
To take their rest for the night, 

assuring them that in the morn, 

He'll bring them 



To their ship, and so to Naples. 

To see the nuptials, 

Of these our dear belov'd solemniz'd, 
And thence retire me to my Milan, where 
Every third thought, shall be my grave. 

The mild and gentle Ariel, is dismissed to the 
elements to be free; and this interesting;' scene, 



TOE TEiUIPESTo 51 



closes, by Prospero, promising, " calm seas, and 
auspicious gales ; so, that all may reach in safety, 
their destination. 

Though some cold and fastidious critics, have 
found fault with this play, and have considered it, 
altogether, a meagre production, I, setting aside, 
the censure of such false criticism, must offer my 
tribute of praise, in looking upon it, as. the most 
perfect of all our poet's productions ;— being 
amongst the latest of his efforts, the powers of his 
great and intellectual mind, seem to have been here 
condensed, so as to give to mankind, a work, which 
time will never destroy ; for, whether, we con- 
template, the moral of the tale, — the beauty of 
the composition, — the lofty and exalted sentiment, 
— the deep display of human action, in combina- 
tion, with the knowledge so agreeably related, 
concerning the popular stories of superstition, 
both ancient and modern, it will ever be regarded 
as an imperishable monument, of Shakspere's 
fertile, sublime, and original genius. 



FINIS. 



APPENDIX 



Note 1, Page §. 

Shakspere, in Macbeth's address, to the Ghost of the 
murdered Banquo, gives a strong illustration, how far 
the mind of man, endowed with great courage, may be 
altogether subdued, under the belief of supernatural 
agency, though at the same time, it is here imagined, 
that the terrible object, which the ambitious tyrant saw, 
inspired him with that horror, which a sense of his crimes 
awakened ; — 



What man dare, I dare. 



Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 
The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcan tyger; 
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 
Shall never tremble ; or, be alive again, 
And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 
If trembling I evade it, then protest me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, terrible shadow ; 
Unreal, Mockery, hence ! 



54 APPEa 

Superstition, which has often destroyed the energies of 
the bravest soldier, has also swamped, and laid waste, the 
human mind, even amidst the calm and peaceful inquiries 
of philosophy ; — the false and erroneous views of religion, 
which superstition has engendered, impeded, in a lament- 
able degree, in former times, the progress of science ; — 
Tycho Brahe, distinguished for his glorious discoveries 
in Astronomy, was deterred from the further pursuit of his 
studies, by unhappily imagining, that to persevere with 
them, he would be guilty of impiety, towards the Deity ; 
and Swammerdam, the celebrated Butch anatomist, in an 
evil moment, when under the same fanatical influence, 
committed to the flames, the records of years, which, it 
is said, has deprived the science of anatomy, of many 
facts, connected with the physiology of man, that his 
laborious investigations had discovered. 



Note 2, Page 6. 



Mr. Walpole observes, that " there is not the least 
suspicion, that the folio, under the name of James L, is 
not of his own composition, for, though Roger Ascham 
may have corrected or assisted periods of his illustrious 
pupil, no body can imagine, that Buchanan dictated a 
word of the Demonologia, or of the polite treatise, entitled 
' A Counterblast to Tobacco.' Quotations, puns, witti- 
cisms, superstition, oaths, vanity, prerogative, and pe- 
dantry, the ingredients of all his sacred majesty's per- 
formances, were the pure produce of his own capacity, 
and deserving all the incense offered to such immense 
erudition, by the divines of his age, and the flatterers of 
his court." The folio, Mr. Walpole alludes to, consists 
of several tracts, and which contain an attempt to prove, 
that monarchs have a right to be absolute and independent 



AtpreawnXo 55 

of their subjects ; on the heinous sin of taking tobacco ; 
on witchcraft, &c, &c. 



Note 3, Page 6. 



See the collection of criminal trials for Scotland, pub. 
lished at Edinburgh, by the celebrated Hugo Arnot. 



Note 4, Page 8. 



" The Tempest, one of the most splendid efforts of 
human genius, was doubtless founded on some Italian 
novel, though that novel has eluded the research of the 
most diligent commentators. Some of the thoughts 
appear to have been taken from Greene's Alphonsus, and 
certainly the names of some among the characters are 
derived from other sources. But how insignificant the 
aggregate of all, compared with the noble work which 
Shakspere has left us ! There is more invention in this 
piece, than in any other of his dramas." — Dr. Lardner's 
Cabinet Cyclopaedia, 2 vol Biography. 



Note 5, Page 17. 

The red-plague, here alluded to by Caliban, lias been 
by Steevens, and other commentators, considered the 
Erisepelas, a supposition, perhaps, altogether erroneous ; 
as this disease seldom prevails in the form of an epidemic, 
and is always confined to a local part of the system. In 
all probability, the red-plague was that species of scarla- 
tina, (scarlet fever) now classified, by nosologists, under 
the term cynanche maligna, a disease, which was never 



56 APPEITODC. 

well understood, among medical writers, till the middle of 
last century, when Dr. Fothergill first gave an accurate 
description of it. About the period (1748) when this 
excellent physician directed his attention to cynanche 
maligna, it prevailed to a great extent in London, as an 
epidemic, and proved fatal to many; among the number, 
were a portion of the family of the Duke of Newcastle, a 
circumstance, which gave to the disease, at that time, the 
term of the Pelham sore throat. 



Note 6, Page 23. 



This state of equality is, in our day, advocated by an 
extensive body in this country, who are denominated 
socialists ; — their doctrines are very widely promulgated, 
and have lately gained much notoriety, from the circum- 
stance, of Mr. Robert Owen, their great leader, having 
been introduced to the Queen, through the auspices of 
Lord Melbourne ■; such a distinction conferred upon the 
Coryphoeus of this new system, has led some to consider, 
that his opinions have, indirectly, met with the sanction 
of royalty, while his schemes, being apparently patronized, 
by the prime mimister of her Majesty's whig cabinet, 
joined to the recollection, that they were confidentially 
approved of, by the late Sir Robert Peel, Bart., as also 
the Duke of Kent, and other distinguished individuals, 
have given an impetus, and importance, to the principles 
of the New Moral World, that have produced no small 
degree of excitement, through all classes of society. The 
bench of spiritual peers, in this state of affairs, have 
become alarmed ; — and, under the dread which, it is said, 
these humble disciples of the primitive doctrines of 
Christianity experience, of losing hold of the revenues of 
a church, more rich and powerful, than all the other 



APPENDIX. 57 

ecclesiastical establishments in Europe, the jmous Henry 
Phillpotts, Bishop of Exeter, has very strenuously called 
upon the legislature, to check the progress of socialism ; — 
denouncing its tenets as blasphemous and immoral; amidst 
such conflicting events, the calm observer, can only come 
to the conclusion — we live in strange times ! 



Note 7, Page 27. 



In the edition of the works of Shakspere, printed at 
Edinburgh, 1769, the following observations are made on 
" The Winter's Tale," when alluding to Polixenes, King 
of Bithynia. 

The country here called Bithynia hath, in former editions, been 
printed Bohemia, an inland kingdom, situated nearly in the cenlre of 
Europe; whereas many of the great incidents of the play turn upon its 
being a maritime country, of which Polixenes was the king. This is a 
blunder, and an absurdity, of which Shakspere in justice ought not to be 
thought capable : and as he hath turn'd quite anew, the story contained 
in the old paltry book of Dorastus and Faunia, [the book from which 
Shakspere is supposed to have taken the plot] changing most of the 
main circumstances, and all the names of the persons ; it is probable he 
removed the impropriety, and placed the scene in Bithynia, which the 
ignorance and negligence of the first transcribers, or printers, might 
corrupt, and bring back again to Bohemia, by a less variation, in the 
letters, than they have been guilty of in numberless other places of this 
work. 



Note 8, Page 27. 

The first collection of Shakspere's plays was published, 
in 1623, seven years after the period of his death ; — Pro 
fessor Porson and Mr. Upcott, however, in their exam- 
ination of this edition, found three hundred and forty- 
seven literal mistakes. 



58 APPENDIX. 

Note 9, Page 29. 

See various remarks, on the morality of Shakspere, in 
the Biography of early dramatic authors, volume 2nd of 
Dr. Lardner's Cyclopedia. 



Note 10, Page 42. 

An author, more than a century ago, commenting upon 
these words, " The front of Jove himself," says, that they 
are an allusion to the description of Phidias' Jupiter from 
Homer, a circumstance which proves that phrenology was 
known to the ancient sculptors, and which has not been 
overlooked by Shakspere. 



Note 11, Page 49. 

" Thy dukedom I resign." — The duchy of Milan being, 
through the treachery of Anthonio, made feudatory to the 
crown of Naples, Alonzo promises to resign his claim of 
sovereignty for the future. — Steevens. 



I. FJELLOWES, PRINTER, 36, TOTTENHAM COITUS ROAD. 



. 



if 



JAN 16 195V 



